


Wild Love

by LeighJ



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Porn, Angst and Tragedy, Bethyl Smut Week, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Comfort/Angst, Daryl Dixon Smut, Death, Declarations Of Love, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, First Love, French Kissing, Heartache, Heartbreak, Heartbreaking, Heavy Angst, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Love, Love/Hate, Neck Kissing, Not A Fix-It, Not Happy, Oral Sex, Original Character Death(s), Pain, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Public Sex, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Sad, Sad Ending, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Smut, Underage Kissing, Underage Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 20:59:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16395002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeighJ/pseuds/LeighJ
Summary: To lose everyone and rely on only each other, how can two people resist one another? Out there on the road, it's a wild kind love.Second place 'best on the road fic' in the Moonshine Awards!





	1. Preface

**Author's Note:**

> I'm baccccck. 
> 
> I'm sorry I've been AWOL guys. I've just been living life, sleeping, eating, working and haven't had much inspiration to write. BUT, I had two chapters of Wild Love written and then I saw the Bethyl smut week prompts. I had this light bulb moment where I was like 'hey, I could put the prompts in Wild Love. Two birds: one stone!' So that's exactly what I did. 
> 
> Now, I don't want to spoil it but this is not a happy ending! I repeat IS NOT A HAPPY ENDING. I'm letting you know now because I don't want anyone getting any illusions that this is fluffy. This fic comes full circle and ends as it started.
> 
> I realise this won't be everyone's cup of tea but I'm okay with that. I don't write for anyone but me and I like it. I of course value and adore your comments but if you're not interested, I'm not offended. 
> 
> If you are though, hit me up with those comments and kudos because I've missed you! And I hope you've missed me! I also have some other one shots coming this way so keep your eyes peeled.
> 
> P.S has anyone else noticed my recurring theme of disappearing for weeks and then coming back with a bunch of fic!? Lol.
> 
> P.P.S this was inspired by James Bay - Wild Love. Amazing song! 
> 
> Thank you as always wallflow3r for betaing and advising me in everything I needed!

“Don’t go,” Beth begs desperately, her throat clogged tight and her eyes hot with tears. “Please, please, Daryl, _don’t go_.”

She’s desperate and childish and petulant, she knows all these things and she’s a coward too, goddamnit she’s such a fucking coward but she _can’t_ lose him. Daryl grabs her by the shoulders and shakes her, his breath heavy and his face flecked with blood.

Her head rocks on her shoulders and she sobs, crashing into his shoulder with a shake of her own as he hurriedly speaks in her ear, “I gotta do it, Beth. We’re fuckin’ trapped, y’get that?” He spits at her.

She knows he’s not really angry at her but the adrenaline is coursing as swift as the growing puddles of blood all around her and he can’t help it so she’s not angry when he shakes her again, rattling her teeth.

“I can’t lose you,” she whispers hoarsely until her voice cracks and tears stream down her eyes.

“This ain’t the fuckin’ _time_ ,” he snaps at her. “Fix up an’ sit up! You gotta have my back, alrite? Beth! You gotta have my back, _alrite_?”

“ _Yeah_ ,” she sobs shakily. “I got it. I got your back.”

“Good. Grip that knife tighter. After me, right? Run _straight after_ me.” He orders desperately, his hands slick with blood grabbing her cheeks and staining them as he yanks her in and kisses her.

Beth freezes. He’s never kissed her before. She’s never told him she can’t lose him before. There’s never been time before and there’s none now. Dead. God, they’re all dead. A sob hitches in her throat and Daryl yanks away, strokes away a tear with his thumb and shakes her again.

“Pay ‘ttention, ‘kay? S’just us now. _Just us_.”

She nods shakily and tries to get a grip on herself, taking a rattling breath and gripping the knife. All she can smell is blood. God save her, please someone save her from this nightmare.

“Ready?”

 _No_.

“Yeah.”

“Go!”


	2. Just us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to mention in the last AN that I did include every prompt for Bethyl smut week apart from Bittersweet! It was going to be my last chapter but I ended on Bite. 
> 
> You'll see why!

* * *

_Just us._

Maggie screaming as teeth rip into her throat and tear it out.

_Just us._

Glenn’s head exploding off the cement floor.

_Just us._

Daddy’s headless corpse dropping to its knees.

_Just us._

Judith dead in her brother’s arms.

_Just us._

Carl’s ribs broken and tearing through his skin.

_Just us._

Rick’s entrails hanging out of his belly.

_Just us._

Blood pouring out of Daryl’s mouth as he chokes.

_Just me._

No.

Beth’s eyes fly open and she stares at the canopy of trees overhead, her heart racing and her skin slick with sweat even as her mouth is clamped shut. No screaming nightmares. Even her subconscious knows that’s too dangerous out here in… wherever they are. Doesn’t matter, there’s nowhere to be. She rolls stiffly on her hip and finds Daryl against the trunk of a tree, plucking at the strings of his crossbow, hair limp and eyes puffy; red rimmed. He’s cried for them, grieved, let it all out while she slept like a stone and he kept watch. He’s cried for them, so why hasn’t she? When she used to read stories, she never understood why they didn’t cry.

Was the ‘numb haze’ they referenced real? Did it really all feel like a ‘nightmare’ that they were waiting to wake up from? Did the author really capture what it was like to lose someone? Maybe it was a load of horseshit. Maybe they didn’t know what the fuck they were talking about and never knew what it was like to _really_ lose someone. Even still, they probably never lost their whole family in one go either. They probably never watched every single person they’ve ever loved or known or broken bread with _die_. Maybe they’re all lying fucking cunts who were using dramatic shit to sell their stupid fucking books. Maybe they were all liars and maybe not because she can’t feel a thing.

She can’t cry, she can’t hurt, she can’t even think straight. She does feel like she’s in a dream, like she’s had a nightmare that’s haunting her throughout the day. Like those dreams where someone dies and even when she wakes up and they’re right there scoffing down their breakfast, she feel like she lost them and it hurts so bad she wants to scream. This isn’t a dream. She didn’t wake up and find Maggie laughing with Glenn. She didn’t wake up and see Rick tickling Judith. She didn’t wake up and watch Michonne practice with her Katana, the very blade that was shoved through her stomach. She didn’t dream a bad dream. This is real. They’re gone, every last one of them and still she can’t cry.

Daryl moves amongst the fallen leaves and rough tree bark, clearing his throat. “You er… you al-”

“M’I alright?” She cuts him off harshly, her voice thick and broken. “Am I alright, that what you were gonna ask me?”

“Beth,” he croaks and he sounds so close to tears she turns her head away sharply.

“ _Don’t_.”

“I lost them too!” He says with fire he didn’t have a moment ago. “I fuckin’ watched them die.”

“An’ whose fault is that!?” She screams as she whips her head back around to face him. “Who wasn’t there when we fuckin’ _needed_ him?”

“The Governor had me on my back, Beth! He was beatin’ the shit outta me!”

She scoffs but he’s not lying. His eyes are swollen and purple, his lip split and face swollen along his jaw. When she catches sight of his knuckles, they’re torn and split.

“I got him,” he adds darkly. “I killed the fucker. The hell did you do, huh? Wanna preach at me ‘bout shit you don’t understand,” he grunts as he staggers to his feet.

Beth climbs to hers too, lurching unsteadily with the sudden movement, not wanting to be in a position lower than him. “I was holdin’ my sister when we watched her husband splash across the floor like a fuckin’ watermelon,” she hisses. “An’ she took that walker bite for me!” Her voice breaks on the last word and her insides break too. "She took it  _for me."_

The sobs are ugly and thick, her knees giving under her as she collapses to the floor with a shudder of horror and grief, spittle and snot dangling from her nose and lips and chin like a child. She can’t find the sense or the care to take a sleeve to her face and wipe up the mess, only enough reason to curl her arms around her ribs and scream into the air. She does it again, screams and screams and screams away her heartbreak, cursing and retching and sobbing in agony, praying for it to end. Daryl sinks to his knees with her in the mud and hugs her fiercely, dragging her weight into him as she screams into his shoulder. He shudders and squeezes and cries, rocking her until the world swims.

“S’just us, Beth.”

_Just us._


	3. Freeform

_Free form_ _._

_Not confirming to a regular or formal structure, or shape_.

Beth remembers learning that definition in school. It’s how she feels in the days after her breakdown: free form. Losing all sense of time and direction, nothing shaping their days but the rise and fall of the sun. Not adhering to regular protocol of grief but skirting right around it day after day after day. Daryl adapts to her state of being, to her emotions. Accommodates by not talking, by not really interacting with her and it’s tugging her in two, trying to be okay with it and yet craving physical touch; affection. Daryl’s not a particularly affectionate person and certainly never has been towards her, so she doesn’t know why she has this irrational need for him to hold her.

Maybe it’s because the days are slipping by into weeks and she’s floating around like a mindless puppet, just existing. Numb and broken and lost but total devoid of emotion, feeling nothing and sometimes, in breath taking moments, feeling everything. It’s killing her, the loneliness, when it hits her and the numbness when that takes her too. Like when a limb falls asleep and it doesn’t quite hurt but it’s uncomfortable; she's painfully aware of it. Night after night she lies still and quiet, not touching anything or anyone, barely feeling the heat or the cold, barely feeling anything at all but as the weeks roll by things change.

The silence continues but the looks he gives her are different. Lingering, communicating something with an urgency that burns in her stomach, stirring long forgotten embers of the girl she used to be. The girl that would have crushes, that would flirt with smiles and looks. Their words come back to them, slow and halting but creeping into existence once more. When she slips off her clothes to wash she catches his flush cheeks and when he does it, she peeks at him rising from the water dipping. On one such day he glances up at her watching him and she notices a corner of his mouth tug up when he turns away.

After he climbs out, she passes him his clothes while looking away and even though they’re not looking at each other, they're touching. The tips of his fingers against hers before his touch disappears. That begins the days where little touches start to grow, leading them to tonight. Leading them to a point that feels like it’s been on boil for days now, sweaty days full of halting conversation, looks and touches that spike her pulse point, that distracts her from the truth of their situation. Daryl’s shoulder brushes hers when he sits beside her and she shivers into awareness.

Hot sparks roll through her chest, hotter and more intense than ever before, setting her heart fluttering immediately. Her eyes flick up to look at his and he’s looking at her, _really_ looking at her and she feels so exposed she wants to turn away but can’t. She can’t when he’s looking at her like that, she has to keep looking back, has to keep falling deeper into his gaze, into his gorgeous eyes. His hand raises, shaking like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to do what he’s thinking. She strains towards him, craning her neck, lips parting and chest heaving as his palm covers her cheek.

His skin is warm from the fire he built and it sends tingles throughout her mouth, like popping candy in the back of her throat. Her lips become bone dry and she flicks her tongue out to wet them, her stomach flipping as his eyes follow the movement. A tug between her legs startles her and she flushes, glancing away quickly like he’ll see in her gaze what he’s doing to her by simply cupping her face. With his hand on her cheek he remains completely still until she turns her face back to him. When she connects eyes with him, the look she finds there is like he wants to do something, like he wants to kiss her or pull her closer for a hug but can’t.

He’s trying to tell her with his gaze that it is what he wants but he’s too scared to do it, maybe because he believes he’ll be rejected for his efforts. Except they’ve spent weeks in silence and misery, weeks being lost and she just wants to be found again. Beth pushes to her knees and takes his face in her hands, still looking at him wordlessly.

“Beth,” he mumbles weakly. “I-”

She cuts him off with her mouth, her hands slipping down to cup his throat, her thumb sliding over his Adam’s apple. He groans against her lips and parts his own, breathing his excitement in a heavy pant that she swallows. Taking her roughly by the hips in a bold move she never expected from him, he presses her back into the blanket they’re lying on. Beth falls back with him, her legs sliding open so he can fit between them, his lips still moving frantically against hers, slicking her chin wet with their excitement. Moaning softly, she tips her neck to accommodate his aggressive passion, her hands riding the buttons of his shirt down to his belt buckle.

Kissing Daryl is like kissing a whole other man. The man she’s been glimpsing the past couple of days, the man whose fingers have been brushing hers, whose conversation has been shy and halting in case he upsets her and sends her running. He’s been so good to her and maybe that’s why he’s been so shy, but she can’t pretend she’s not enjoying this version of him, this version he’s letting out for her.

Daryl chokes into her mouth as his own hand falls on top of hers. They pull away to pant in each other’s faces. “You don’t have to. Jesus, I don’t even know…” he trails off, his eyes bouncing between hers. “What the hell’re we doin’, girl?” He whispers.

 _Free form_ , she thinks desperately, her eyes searching his. “Living,” is what she answers. 

He frowns at her in confusion but lets her take his mouth once more, her hand tugging at his belt until she yanks it out. Beth gently bites his lower lip and sucks on it as her hand slips beneath the waist band in her way. Daryl moans heatedly against her cheek as his lips slide there. She strains upwards to keep them connected as her hand wraps around his straining cock. His breath pants against her collar bone as he tips his head against her shoulder, his hands a rock solid grip on her hips.

“You’re so big,” she whispers in his ear.

Daryl shivers as he pushes his hips forward, forcing his cock through her hand in the tight confides of his underwear. Pre-cum smears all over her fingers and palm, helping her to glide down his shaft as she pushes gently against his thrust. Another sound worms out of him, sending a hot shiver down her spine.

“Fuckkk,” he groans deliciously.

Her palm feels damp with sweat and pre-cum, as well as the heat of Daryl’s hard cock. Her skin is prickled with goose bumps and hot beads of sweat run down her forehead, down between her breasts. The flutters in her stomach are as excited as her hand as it squeezes Daryl’s dick and pumps at it softly, her thumb dancing over his sensitive head. His hips move with reckless abandon, fucking into her fist like it’s her cunt, with all the drive and excitement she wishes she had between her legs right now. Her pussy is throbbing, her veins flushed with arousal but she doesn’t want to stop hearing Daryl’s noises long enough to let him slide inside her.

“Jesus, Beth, m’not gonna last,” he sobs before he bites her earlobe.

The feeling that pours down her neck and tightens her nipples is like an orgasm but with the intensity turned down so it’s a softer wave that leaves her trembling. Desperate for him to feel what she does, she squeezes hurriedly and pumps her hand faster.

Daryl’s breaths become heavy and fast, punching deep into her eardrum as his hips speed up too. “ _Fuck, fuck, fuck,_ ” he chants as he fumbles at his jeans, pushing his dick all the way free.

Beth looks down at it, seeing by the firelight the swollen purple head and then the stream of hot white cum as it pours in reams beside her hip. She moans under her breath, her cunt pounding fiercely as her nipples tighten to painful tips.

Daryl lets out one more choked groan before his head crashes against her shoulder. “Holy _fuck_.”

A crazy giggle bursts from her lips that spreads warm embers throughout her chest and then all of a sudden she's laughing. Real dizzying laughter that sweeps her away. Her body is flooded with sparks and fireworks, pounding and pulling and burning. She’s alive. So alive. Spinning through time and space on fire, crashing to the ground in a blaze right into Daryl’s arms. She takes a breath and then her laughter is tears.

Wordlessly, Daryl wraps his arms around her and she knows he understands when he holds her close and whispers, “m’not goin’ anywhere, Beth. S’just us now. Me an’ you an’ I promise, I got you.”


	4. Breathe

The room stinks of blood. Blood and death, rot that burns the hairs in her nose. When she looks around she sees nothing but death. All her family dying. Maggie screaming as teeth tear into her throat, her eyes connecting with Beth as an understanding passes through them. Maggie took Beth’s bite, took her death and changed her whole life but beneath it all the ever familiar current of _I love you._

Jesus she can’t _breathe_.

She dives forward to help, chest heaving, heart pounding but then impossibly fast Maggie rises as a walker, her eyes milky with death and her neck pouring clotted, rotten blood, black as coal. Beth turns away in disgust, eyes streaming tears as Glenn’s head explodes off the cement floor. The blood and brains fly forth from his split skull, splattering her face and lips. She gags, choking on nothing, trying to find air.

_Can’t breathe, can’t breathe, can’t breathe._

It’s like she’s having a panic attack but even aware of it she can’t control it, her vision pulsing black on the edges as her brain becomes oxygen starved. She stumbles over her own feet, trying to catch her breath, blinking away black spots. When she focuses she realises she’s looking right into her daddy’s eyes. His decapitated head is lying on the floor like a discarded ball, blood seeping out in a puddle where maggots play and dance. Beth heaves as her daddy’s eyelashes blink at her. Taking a running leap to her feet, desperate to find Daryl, desperate to escape, desperate to _breathe_.

“Daryl!” She screams. “Daryl, we have to go!”

She turns in a dizzying circle as the room sways around her, her eyes finding Carl lumbering towards her on a broken leg turned in a sickening angle. Judith is like a sleeping doll in his arms, Beth’s stomach heaving every time Carl’s dead arm swings wildly and nearly drops her. His ribs are broken clean open, tearing through his skin and shirt.

Beth squeezes her eyes closed as she tries to suck in a rattling breath. “Daryl! Please! God _, I can’t breathe._ ”

Something crashes into her back and she flies across the rough floor through a pool of blood, soaking her stomach and chest. Flipping onto her back, she screams as Rick’s rotten face leers at her, his entrails hanging out of his belly and sliding all over her skin where her top has ridden up.

“No! Get off! Rick, stop, _stop_!” She screams as she shoves at his face. “Rick please, Ric- _fuck_!”

His teeth clamp into her wrist, tearing free a chunk of bloody skin and all she can do is scream.

“Beth!”

The world floods black and then there’s light but she’s still screaming. “Get off! Get off me! Please!”

“Beth, s’me! S’me, it’s Daryl!” His face comes into focus and she stops screaming, her wrists clenched in his hand as he leans over her. “S’okay. Was just a dream. S’okay.”

“Daryl?” She whispers weakly, her chin trembling.

“M’here,” he reassures her gently, his hand timidly stroking back her damp hair. “M’right here. Breathe, girl, you’re alrite.”

Beth takes a shaky, deep breath as she shoves her face into his chest, fighting off the terror. His arms wrap around her and she clings to him like a dead weight, pulling him over her body. He follows, taking the edge of the blanket and tucking it around them so they’re in a warm little cocoon.

“M'sorry,” she whispers after an age of her shaky breaths. “You think any walkers heard?”

“Maybe,” he mumbles softly against her forehead where her head is pressed to his chest. “But s’nearly dawn so we’ll be good. You alrite to keep goin’?”

“Yeah,” she answers with more determination than she feels. “Mullin’ over it ain’t gonna make me feel better. They’re gone.”

A hitch in his chest makes her eyes water but she blinks rapidly as he whispers, “we’re not gone. We’re still here. We made it.”

Beth bites solidly on her bottom lip and refuses to let the tears escape or she’ll never stop. Taking a deep breath, she rolls onto her back and stares up at the sky beginning to warm with the sun. After a moment of deep breaths, adrenaline still coursing through her veins, she pushes upwards and rolls her shoulders.

“Guess this means we're gettin’ up?” Daryl mumbles behind his hand as it scrubs down his face.

She nods. “Let's move.”

* * *

Days later, her eyes blink sleepily open and she realises she must have fallen asleep in Daryl’s arms again. She’s been doing that a lot lately, sleeping deeper in his arms, allowing him to be there in the cold nights and through the nightmares. There's been no more kissing bar soft, timid ones to her cheeks and forehead. It’s like he doesn't want to push her, echoes her moods perfectly by giving her affection when she needs it and giving her space when she needs that too. More and more lately what she's needed has been humanity bleeding back into her, soaking into her bones and reminding her that she is alive, that she shouldn’t feel guilty when she craves physical affection.

Craves Daryl’s grunts and their shared laughs. Taking a deep breath as she fully comes to, she begins to process the fact that she’s curled right into Daryl's chest, her back pressed there and his arm tucked tight around her waist. The sun is hot and blinding, still young in the sky, not yet noon. Her right cheek facing the blaze is burning and itchy with flush, her eyelashes crisp with dried up sleep. She hasn’t slept that solidly in a really long time. Warm and surprisingly comfortable here on the ground, her body aches with comfort deep in her bones. Daryl’s mouth is pressed to the back of her neck, his breath soft and even in sleep.

Beth stretches with a soft groan and he stirs in answer behind her, his arm tightening around her waist for a moment before he makes to move. She grips his forearm quickly before he can move completely away, not sure if that’s something she can ask for, even silently. He rumbles a laugh against her throat where his head tucks in deeper. “Y’good?” He mumbles thickly.

She shivers at his husky, sleepy voice as it washes down her throat and collarbones but she’s surprised to find a smile tug at her lips. “I actually… am.”

The next breath that comes out of him is almost relief and Beth basks in this feeling, this almost solid feeling that they’ll be okay. That they have lost something dear, something important, many someone’s but that in the end they still have each other. If she wants to grieve she can, but she doesn’t have to be the walking dead. It’s time to live again, in whatever way she's able to. Starting with them and with this new tender thing they seem to have cultivated out on the road. She licks her lips with nervous anticipation as she lays her hand on his and gently nudges it between her legs.

Daryl’s breathing shoots sharp between his teeth, his head pushing forward over her shoulder as if he means to peek at her face. “Y’sure… you want me to...” He drifts over his words, sounding not quite sure himself.

Beth angles her head back to catch his eyes, her face now flushed in aroused embarrassment rather than heat. “I would like… I mean…” she laughs nervously, struggling to articulate herself. “I would never make you do somethin’ you didn’ wanna, Daryl. You can tell me no, you always can.”

The corner of his mouth does that little tugging thing like he wants to smirk but feels like he would look like a dick so he flattens it instead. “Who says I don’t wanna touch you ‘ere?”

“Do you?” She asks breathlessly.

His eyes hold onto hers as he uses his thumb and pushes her jean button through the hole. The fabric releases around her waist, giving at the front so that he can dance the rough pads of his fingers down her worn panties. She can’t stand to look at him when he’s touching her like this but she can’t stand to look away either, biting her lip instead. The depth of her breathing declines and she struggles to hide how wound up she is by his hesitant fingers making acquaintance with her damp curls. He sucks in a breath, his cheeks flushing as their eyes remain connected and when his fingers slide down her slit, she can’t bear it any longer and squeezes her eyes shut.

In the darkness of the back of her eyelids, the sensations between her legs grow from a dull ember to a roaring inferno, his forefinger bumping over her swollen, damp clit. Beth’s moan catches in her throat, her head tipping back and her lips parting as Daryl’s mouth touches down on her collarbones. His lips kiss and nibble there, raising a network of goose bumps as his fingers grow a little more confident and slide deeper, encouraged further by the thick wetness he finds dripping out of her. She chokes on another moan, tugged by arousal and embarrassment, vulnerable with exposure.

“Daryl… God…”

“Y’re so… wet,” he whispers in amazement. “S’that…” he pauses to lightly suck at her skin, making her spine arch as the feeling slides right down to her nipples. “Cause’a me?”

“ _Yes_ ,” she gasps, arching her hips to make room for his hand. “There, please,” she begs.

“Here?”

She whimpers under her breath again as his fingers dance around her clutching hole. She doesn’t think he means to be a tease, just that he wants to be sure before he does something but she becomes too impatient and reaches down to take his hand. When she takes two of his meaty fingers and presses them inside her, he growls deep and low. Beth moans back, body flushing as her pussy stretches for his fingers and then grips tight once more, clutching fiercely.

“Jesus.” He presses the word deep into her throat as his mouth climbs there, taking her lips in a kiss that burns throughout her body.

There’s no more shame left in her movements as heat swallows her, her desperate hips bouncing on his fingers and her own finger reaching down to roll over her clit. Daryl’s mouth detaches from hers to look down at both their hands working her cunt, pushing the blanket away so he can see clearer. With how fast her hips ride their combined efforts, her pussy greedy for the pleasure sparking in her womb and through her veins, she has to close her eyes again against the intensity of it all. She can barely keep her moans contained, biting on her bottom lip to cage her noises, knowing Daryl’s avidly watching.

The orgasm winds tight in her belly, clutching harder at Daryl’s fingers, swelling her clit beneath her own until she’s gripping Daryl’s forearm with her free hand and chanting deliriously, “m’gonna cum, m’gonna… m’gon-”

All her noises choke off as the next delicious thrust of Daryl’s driving fingers in her wet depths sends her spiralling over the edge. The noise he makes when he feels the gush of fluids pour down his fingers and palm into his hand is destructive to her heart rate, sending it into a rapid flutter. The speed of his fucking decreases but the depth doesn’t and every push into her steals her breath, her whole body trembling with delicious aftershocks until she has to grip his wrist and tug him away. He whispers an apology as her thighs falls closed on their clasped, damp hands covered in her cum.

“S’okay, I liked it,” she whispers in a promise. “S’just sensitive. Been so long.”

He hums against her cheek as he presses his mouth there for a kiss. “I er, I like doin’ that. Touchin’ you.”

Another surprised smile steals across her lips and this time she doesn’t feel the urge to cry when she laughs, like she doesn’t deserve to be happy. “I like touchin’ you too. You touchin’ me. I like it all.” After she says it she laughs in embarrassment and presses her face to his chest with a groan. “Oh God, listen to me. I sound like a horny teenager.”

“Then I mus’ sound like a horny old pervert,” he rumbles, on the edge of laughter.

She rolls her eyes as she pulls away to look at him. “Don’t do that. Don’t doubt this. S’just us now, member? There’s no one left to care.”

His eyes are more serious when he connects them with hers and he doesn’t answer her, but to press a tender kiss to her forehead. Beth sighs as she wraps her arms around him and she enjoys the quiet as they hug each other tightly, acknowledging all they’ve lost and accepting all they’ve found.


	5. Blue

When she orgasmed and cuddled into Daryl’s arm, she felt so good. So alive. So right in herself and her body. Deciding to accept who they’ve lost and who she still has right beside her. Deciding to live. That’s the funny thing about grief though, it never tells her it’s coming. It never tells her that it wants to steal the warmth from her days, to turn everything blue. Colour leached from the world until all she sees are blues and greys and blacks. No warmth or light, no red, orange or yellow. No dusty pinks or roaring purples. Just blue and it hurts, it all hurts. Breathing, drinking, eating, being. It hurts to just _be_ and honestly she’s so sick of the colour blue she can’t even look Daryl in the eye.

After two days of this, Daryl stops in his tracks, buried trees deep in the woods and turns to her. “What’s goin’ on, girl?”

Beth stops as suddenly as he did, never having expected him to approach her like this. He’s usually so accommodating of her, allowing her numbness and sadness, allowing her silences. He only ever begins to encroach on her space when he feels like she’s ready to join the world of the living and talking again.

“What’re you talkin’ ‘bout?” She dodges, hugging her arms around her middle, so vulnerable under his blue, blue gaze.

“Y’know. Don’t do that shit with me,” he deals her no bullshit, pushing his words out forcefully.

Her bottom lip trembles as she parts them, trying to find some way to explain this feeling, this pain, this world she’s living in. “Everythin’ is blue.”

For a long time he just blinks at her like she’s gone completely insane, which she might have at this point but before she can get angry, he simply repeats, “blue?”

“Y-yeah,” she whispers haltingly. “Like all the colour’s gone. Like m’never gonna be warm again.”

It’s almost embarrassing to tell him this, this deep _something_ that she doesn’t understand herself. When he says nothing more she does finally get angry, storming past him and his silence. He reaches out before she can pass by him and wordlessly wraps her up in his arms, letting her struggle weakly before she falls into his body.

Her body tingles to life as she finds warmth there and she lets out a shuddering sob, hugging him tightly. “I miss ‘em so much.”

“Me too,” he mumbles against her hair, pressing a delicate kiss there. “C’mon, le’s find somewhere warm tonight. Maybe with a fuckin’ mattress, my back’s killin’ me.”

Beth’s own back twinges in sympathy and she nods against his shoulder, sniffling. “I’d like that.”

They pull apart and he takes her hand as he leads the way in his search for somewhere to bed down. It takes them a little while but she can’t take any of the credit because Daryl does all the tracking, finding them a little cabin with a beautiful log fire waiting to cradle roaring flames once again. When they arrive, Daryl kisses her forehead again and she shivers as warm tingles flow through her veins for the first time in days. He encourages her to sit as he makes all the arrangements, disappearing for a little while, allowing her to drift in and out of sleep. When she fully comes to again, the fire is roaring and Daryl’s got two squirrels cooking.

The heady aroma of the dripping meat and the heat of the fire has awakened her body in a spark of messages. Scent and sight, touch and heat. She sits up, keeping the blanket Daryl must have laid over her clutched around her shoulders. She finds the man in question opposite her, his feet up so his arms are wrapped around his knees, watching the meat.

“Hey,” she whispers softly.

His head turns and he smiles. “Hey. Y’good?”

She smiles back in response. “I like it when you ask me that. I feel a lot better, ‘causa you. Thank you.”

He nods, cheeks flushed either from embarrassment or the fire or both, she doesn’t know. “I like knowin’ you’re okay.”

The warmth his words bring her makes her skin tingle. “Thank you. I like knowin’ you’re okay too… you are, aren’t you? Okay?”

Daryl nods. “M’good. Hungry. Y’ready for some food?”

Just then, her stomach rumbles and she giggles nervously. “Guess that’s your answer.”

He chuckles under his breath and reaches over to carefully take the roasted squirrel on its stick. Beth takes the two ends, the bark hot and baked under her fingertips. For the next several minutes they eat in an ongoing wave of pleasured sounds. Her taste buds are brought back to life with the juicy, dripping meat and she savours every single bite.

When she’s done, she swipes her wrist over her greasy mouth and then wipes her dirty hands down her clothes. “That was amazin’, thanks, Daryl.”

“Welcome,” Daryl rumbles as he sucks his thumb clean of grease.

Beth flushes as she looks at the grease smearing his chin and lips. In the firelight it looks like slick juices that could have come from between her legs. His eyes keep flicking to her as he cleans off his fingers and she’s sure it’s just the overload of sensations she’s feeling, but the small act is obscenely erotic.

“Gonna need some more food tomorrow, ain’t got nothin’ left now,” he whispers softly, like he doesn’t want to raise his voice in the hush of the room.

She’s comforted by it, the tone right for the roaring flames and gentle heat all around her. “We’ll go huntin’. Maybe you can show me how to use the bow bit more.”

“Yeah, I’d like tha’.”

Smiling, she stretches out her legs on her side of the mattress Daryl found earlier and dragged down. “Can you believe we got so many blankets?” She says just for something to say.

She’s picking at the threading of one of said blankets when Daryl clears his throat. “S’gettin’ warm in here, don’t really need ‘em.”

“You hot?” She asks, glancing up at him and pausing her picking.

“Little,” he answers, tugging at his vest lapel.

Nibbling on her lower lip, she finally whispers, “you can take off whatever you need.”

Staring at her with rapidly blinking eyes he finally mumbles, “yeah? You too.”

Feeling like that’s an opening for her excitement to grow, she lays her hands against the waist band of her jeans and while watching him, slides her button through the loop. Daryl’s cheeks flush red and she watches in giddy excitement as it floods to his chest. Licking her lips nervously, she pushes them down her legs, kicking at her boots when they pool there. Once her lower half is clear, she does feel a lot better, less agitated in the warmth. Shrugging off the blanket, she takes off Daryl’s denim jacket she’s been wearing. It's her favourite one of his, with the leather sleeves. Once that's off, she then puts the blanket back over her shoulders.

Leaving it parted, she allows him to look at her in nothing but a thin t-shirt, with her legs stretched out over the mattress. Daryl clears his throat as he pulls his vest off, leaving him topless. Beth marvels at his pecs and biceps, her eyes sliding down his toned stomach and back up to his small, flat nipples. A thought steals her breath the minute she thinks it. Of whether he would like them touched, licked or sucked...

She bites her lip and flushes when she says, “you’re kinda beautiful.”

The laugh that slides out of him is real and flattered, some kind of surprised sound that she enjoys hearing. Seemingly emboldened by her compliment, he lies on his side facing her, holding his head up with his hand under his cheek. Beth lies down beside him too where she was sitting up, arranging the blanket to fall over their legs. Lying facing each other in silence for a moment, Beth’s not sure what she is and isn’t allowed to ask for. This thing is so new and fragile, ebbing and flowing in its intensity. From hot kisses to shy glances and back again, leaving her reeling in her understanding of what they’re actually doing.

She wants to just reach out and hug him, but Daryl’s not an overly affection person and seems to only do affectionate things when he’s in the mood to. It seems he’s in an affectionate mood tonight though as he gently lays an arm over her waist, as if not to spook her. Beth snuggles closer at his encouragement, her legs tangling up with his jean clad ones. Managing her arms takes a second until she decides to slide her left one under his arm and her right one around his back. He shudders when her hand lays across the scars there. She’s seen them when they’ve had to bathe but it’s the first time she’s ever touched them, come in to contact with them in such a prominent way.

For a moment she wonders if anybody has ever touched them. When her fingers dance over the thickest one he trembles from head to toe and she has her answer. “This okay?” She whispers.

“Mm,” he mumbles, his eyes keen on hers.

She looks back at him, loving that his palms are so large against her spine that she feels completely cradled, her head resting against his shoulder. They’re simply cuddling and yet her whole body is aware of his. The smooth expanse of his skin where he’s not scarred, the rough denim of his jeans against her prickly, unshaven legs. His light dusting of facial hair rubbing against her brow, his breath blowing into her hair. Beth wonders if he’s as aware of her body as she is of his. Wonders if he’s in as much amazement lying together as her.

She wants to ask him, wants to be brave enough to ask him but she just isn’t because making him talk about this, making him define them, might send him running. Instead she lies in silence shot through with sexual tension. Her heart is thrumming in her chest and she flushes to think he can feel it vibrating through his. That he knows how nervous she is, how excited and turned on just to be hugged by him, how much she already craves his touch. Tipping her head back, he angles his for her and then their lips are connecting. It doesn’t even matter who took whose mouth because they both wanted it to happen.

Their lips are eager and hot, trembling with need as their tongues slide into each other’s mouths, unpractised but full of want. Beth pushes at his chest and then she’s straddling him, both hands beside his head and her ass resting on his hardening cock, stirring to life in his jeans. She rocks her hips experimentally and he groans, his hands reaching down to her ass and hesitantly squeezing before doing it more firmly at her moan. Biting down on his lip makes him yelp, thrusting his hips up to meet her roll. Beth keens into his mouth and he follows it with a groan, pushing upwards until she’s seated in his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck.

The blanket slides down her shoulders and back, pooling around her hips and his thighs. The thin fabric of her panties offers no protection against the cold metal of his straining zipper as it presses against her clit. She whimpers softly, rocking her hips against it and enjoying the tiny shocks of friction that roll through her bones. Daryl catches on to what she’s doing and takes her hips, moving her more forcefully against his covered cock. She drops her head back between her shoulders with a cry, her nipples hard points through her t-shirt.

Daryl’s eyes latch on to hers as she lowers her head back to look at him. He looks up at her with big eyes full of want and she releases his neck to reach down and roll her t-shirt up and off. Once the fabric clears over her head and her tits are free, there’s no pretending she doesn’t want this. Daryl takes her answer and runs with it, his large hands gripping her waist as he lowers his head to her nipples, taking the first one into his mouth gently. Moaning softly, she reaches down for his belt buckle and begins to work it open, trying to glance past his head at her breast to see what she’s doing.

He detaches his mouth to give her enough time to free his cock into her palm and then he goes in for her other nipple. Something broken escapes her mouth as she pulls at his jeans. He stops again to clear himself of his jeans and boxers, leaving him completely naked. He takes a deep breath, grabbing the blanket and tucking it around their thighs, as if suddenly realising this. It doesn’t do much in the way of covering him up but it seems to give him a sense of protection so she doesn’t mention it. Instead, she begins to wiggle out of her own panties to even the playing fields, leaving her in the end as naked as him. 

His lips part in wonder as he looks upon her naked form and she can’t pretend she’s not flattered by his reaction. Being on the road doesn't really leave her feeling like a gorgeous woman. Most of the time she's sweating and grubby and plain vile. Her skin breaks out with all the greasy squirrels she eats and she get cramps but no periods because she's dehydrated. Finding somewhere to wash up is a miracle and there’s not much left to work with in the terms of hair maintenance. Regardless of all that, the way that Daryl is looking at her right now, she could be convinced she was a goddess in a heartbeat. Empowered by him, she takes his hands and places them on her breasts, reaching down after she’s placed him there to take his cock in hand.

He hisses sharply as she runs her thumb over his head, playing in his pre-cum. “ _Shit_ ,” he spits out, straining into her touch.

Beth smiles cheekily as she lifts her hips and shuffles closer, taking his shoulder so she can lower herself down on him. It’s a tight fit and it’s been a while since her pussy has been forced to stretch like this, having not had sex since Zach. So there’s a tiny sting as she lowers herself, despite how wet she is. Daryl’s moan is worth it though, a kind of tenderly painful pleasure that shakes her spine. Once she’s fully seated, she grips both of his shoulders for purchase, his own hands falling to her hips as she experimentally pushes up on her knees and then lowers back down again. It feels so deliciously good that she lays her head on Daryl’s shoulder and sobs softly, doing it again a little faster.

The slide is sinfully slick and her thighs tremble on her next thrust down, Daryl’s hips softly raising to meet her. Not rushing her or forcing her into a pace she doesn’t want but meeting her, finding balance with her. Everything is so hot and wet she’s soaked with sweat, her skin slick against Daryl’s when it meets his chest. Hard nipples brush against his and it all adds to the overwhelming sensations assaulting her. The clutch of her cunt, the thickness of his cock, the heat of the room, the roaring of the flames and hot sparks bursting in her blood.

Their mouths find each other and they share a desperate, passionate kiss full of teeth and tongue as she gets faster, her legs shaking with the effort. This is a lot harder than she ever thought it would be, her thigh muscles trembling to keep her hips slowly gliding up and down his thick length. Daryl helps her out where he can, his hands on her hips trying to take her weight and help her move. Their tempo picks up and soon she’s bouncing on his dick with cries of pleasure so profound she doesn’t know where he ends and she begins. They’re so beautifully tangled up in each other, her arms around his neck, one hand in his hair and their mouths pressing forcefully together, not quite kissing.

Her belly is flush with his, nipples rubbing and hips tightly fused. His hands fall from her hips to her ass, squeezing and massaging as he fucks up into her deeper and harder, slamming home in wet glory. By this point Beth is a burning volcano, bubbling hotter and thicker with the need to explode, screaming her ecstasy, near crying with the delirious pleasure between her thighs. Her cunt is so wet and tight, the ride easy, Daryl’s cock hard and filling her to her breaking point, mushroom head punching into her womb with every thrust.

“Fuck!” She shouts desperately, detaching her mouth from his to bite his shoulder.

He grunts, thrusting up hard and deep, clipping deep inside her and sending her soaring over the edge, her mouth gaping in a wordless scream. The minute she clamps down on him, Daryl lets out a noise too sinful to be in existence, the sound spilling through her bloodstream like a hit of heroin. Groaning heatedly, he uses his grip on her ass to pull her up off his dick and as it yanks out, hot reams of cum burst against her tailbone, instantly tacky on her skin. Beth sobs again as it sparks another orgasm, this one shaking her deep in her belly with its waves of intensity.

Panting heavily, Daryl bands his arms around her waist, squeezing her slick body closer. “The hell r’you doin’ to me?” He gasps brokenly.

Unbidden, tears burn into her eyes. What is _she_ doing to _him_? What is _he_ doing to _her_? More like. Taking the blue out of the world and filling it with touch, with sound, with warmth. Looking after her, comforting her, feeding her and letting her sleep. Cuddling her close and giving her amazing orgasms, giving her time and attention she doesn’t deserve.

In the end all she can manage is, “I been askin' myself the same question.”


	6. Hunt

There’s something about watching Daryl hunt that’s truly mesmerising. The way he analyses his surroundings, the way he processes sound and understands the change of the wind. The focus and energy he puts into quieting his brain and listening to his body, to his gut. Beth follows after him in pure fascination, watching him bend to inspect a track; to scoop dirt into his hand and shake it back out onto the floor. Despite the fact that he’s putting all his skill and efforts into tracking their food, the sun soon rises and falls in the sky as a marked passage of time, bringing afternoon swiftly into their reality.

By that point, they still haven’t found food and she’s feeling a little helpless lumbering behind him loudly, holding her knife in the hopes of catching a squirrel or possum unawares. Even more time slides by, bringing heat so unbearable she wants to tear her clothes off and walk around naked, modesty be damned. It leaves patches of sweat under hers and Daryl’s arms, tracks of moisture rolling down their temples. Her stomach is cramping for food and she can tell Daryl’s agitated with his lack of fortune. Taking his hand and squeezing in hopes of lightening his thunderous face, she keeps even pace with him over dead leaves.

Fall is not far away, bringing days that start out cold and heat up steadily, leaving them itchy and agitated. He glances at their hands and gives her a small smile, letting her know wordlessly that he appreciates it. They do that now. Communicate silently, with looks and touches, with things unsaid. They communicate in this new language they’ve created together, in this new world they’re sharing. It’s nice, grounding, leaving her steadier in her steps, more solidly present in her day to day life. She feels like he’s bringing her back to life, nourishing her with water and sunlight, helping her unfurl from a little seed.

It’s a strange prospect to her, if losing the people she loves has taught her anything, it’s that she should never hang onto someone, should never open herself to them. It’s a tough decision to make, it leaves her with a choice in the end, to be the living or to be the walking dead. She’s chosen to be the living because he makes her want to. He makes her look at pretty flowers he finds along a track, brings her tiny, beautiful pebbles and bird feathers. Sometimes makes whole baskets of woodland presents in a mended birds nest. He started it doing it not long after they ran together, when she was losing herself in her grief.

When he knew she wasn’t ready for conversation or interaction, knew he wasn’t ready to pull her out of the misery she had to go through to get better, he would bring her gifts. It’s a wild kind of love, something she could only ever expect to find out here. It’s not something she would have been susceptible to back in her old life. That girl liked romance: candles, flowers, chocolates, expensive gifts. She never thought she would find romance in bird feathers and broken things mended by calloused fingers. She liked guys who constantly told her how they felt, communicated with her.

She expects none of that from Daryl, doesn’t even want it, enjoying instead the person he is and how he cares for her. Never with the intention of holding it against her, of keeping a score sheet. He only ever cares for her when he wants to, _because_ he wants to and that’s a beautiful thing that’s very hard not to fall in love with. Their relationship, if it can even be defined in that way is something very innocent. They’ve shared their kisses and intimate touches, shared stunning, soulful sex back in that snug little cabin but they’re not at it like rabbits every day, hands tearing at each other’s clothes. Beth’s not even sure she wants that for them.

Mostly she just likes the rhythm they’ve found together, nothing dramatically changing but subtle shifts arising. Cuddling to sleep is her favourite thing, hugging by the fire, with her back to his chest and his arms tight around their touching knees. She likes the kisses and the brush of his fingers, the comfort as they drag through her hair at night. She likes everything about that and how easy it was to fall into this synchronised existence, to allow the grief its turn in their lives and then the quiet joy that follows. Healing is a painful process but every day she puts another foot forward and finds his right alongside her. Coming to a sudden stop, Beth is pulled from her thoughts to her surroundings.

They’re still deep in the woodlands but there’s a large wood panelled fence curving out of the foliage, a glimpse of the top through some overgrown branches. Daryl’s glancing over the structure, the height and glancing back at her every now and then too.

It’s amazing that she can almost grasp his thoughts, jumping right on his train of thinking. “How’re you gonna get over it though?” She asks aloud.

Daryl doesn’t startle at her synchronicity with him, a familiarity to it now. “Thinkin’ ‘bout hoistin’ you, thrownin’ the bow and bag up, an’ gettin’ up myself.”

Beth rolls her neck on her shoulders, clutching her backpack straps with a deep breath. “Let’s do it then. Maybe we’ll be able to continue the hunt wherever this leads.”

“Le’s do it,” he agrees.

They move into position, Daryl kneeling with his hands clasped together on the floor. Beth slides her foot into the cradle he’s made, presses one hand to his shoulder and grips the knot of a nearby tree with the other.

“Ready?” He grunts from below.

She looks down at him before she nods. “Ready.”

Together they push, her riding on his momentum as she scrabbles up the fence, lunging up for the top. Her nails slip for a terrifying moment but her other hand on the tree saves her and she manages to swing her leg up like she means to mount a horse. The technique works and before she knows it, she’s straddling the top of the fence.

“Woo!” She cheers happily, raising her two fists despite wobbling on the fence. “We did it! Oh wow, Daryl this garden is _amazin_ ’...” She shouts down as she surveys the land on the other side of the fence.

“S’it a house?” He shouts up.

Swinging her head back down to him, she catches him pulling the bow up off his head. “Yeah, looks posh. No walkers that I can see… yet. There’s a pond in there! They mighta kept fish.”

This seems to give Daryl some enthusiasm because he motions the bow and throws it upwards like it doesn’t weigh a ton. She lets out a nervous squeak as she scrambles for it, nearly losing her balance in the process. Miraculously, she does manage to catch it and regain her seat, her thighs beginning to ache as she settles again.

“Better hurry or I ain’t walkin’ ‘gain for’a couple days,” she warns mischievously. “This’s harder than it looks.”

Daryl flashes her an amused smile, keeping his responses to himself it would seem as he places his foot against the tree for his boost. Luckily he’s taller than her, with longer arms so hopefully he can grip the top with enough boost. Giving his knee three experimental bounces first, he launches into his first attempt, his hand swinging up for purchase. Beth risks her balance to catch it, tugging with all her strength, the crossbow leaned precariously against her chest as her other hand grips a branch over her head. With her straining and him pushing upwards, his arms manage to swing over the top of the fence, his feet kicking it violently so it shudders ominously.

She grabs the bow quickly so it doesn’t fall and make his efforts pointless when he has to go back down for it, watching breathlessly as he scrabbles to stay up. With more elegance than Beth expected of him, Daryl manages to swing his leg over and after a second of shuffling, finds his seating on the top opposite her.

“Hi,” she laughs, listening to him panting. “Come here often?”

“Shut up,” he mutters but he’s smiling and that’s everything.

Taking a moment to look out into the garden, his eyes find the pond she mentioned and he squints before they go wide. “Beth?”

“Yeah?” She asks, following his gaze.

“That what I think it is?”

Glancing back at him to ensure they’re looking at the same thing, she frowns when she turns her head around again to look deeper in the pond. Then… movement. Flashes of colours. Reds and whites and oranges. Koi.

“It’s a Koi pond!” She yells in astonishment. “It’s teemin’ with Koi! An’ it’s huge! Oh an’ there’s a pool! Score!”

Snorting, he reaches his ankle to lightly clip hers in a playful kick. “Gotta get down from here without breakin’ our ankles first, dumb ass.”

“Well this was your idea, _dumb ass,_ you work it out,” Beth teases, ecstatic with their find.

If only they can actually reach it.

Daryl sucks at his lower lip as he deliberates and she quickly averts her gaze, a moment of arousal stealing over her so suddenly she goes red hot. Finally, he glances up at the tree branches above them and gives them an experimental shake.

Beth glances back to him as leaves dance down around her head and shoulders. “You think they’re gonna hold us?”

He glances at her with a shrug. “Think’f we throw the bag down first, won’t hurt so bad when we drop, save our ankles.”

Blowing out a breath that rustles her hair, she glances down at the drop. It’s taller than Daryl by a few feet, a good worth of empty space, not too bad but could really hurt. Glancing back to Daryl, she rolls her shoulder. “We could lose the bag if we can’t get down there, could get trapped if we break somethin’.”

“Risk’s worth the reward though, right?” He mumbles, mostly to himself.

She nods, rolling her shoulders out. “Let’s do it then. Me first?”

“Nah, me, so I can catch you,” he says as he swings his legs over.

“Daryl don’t be stupid,” she objects, handing him the bow. “If I break somethin’ you can help me move my weight. You break somethin’, we’re done for. Rather break your fall.”

He huffs out a breath of frustration but she can tell he sees sense in her logic. “Fine. Throw the bag down.”

Swinging the pack off her shoulders, she throws it beneath them. It bounces a little as it lands, squishy with their blankets and spare jeans. Hopefully it’ll save her from knocking herself breathless or save her ankles. Beth throws her legs over the one side and slowly lowers her hips off the edge to give herself as much advantage as possible.

Daryl hisses when her hand slips and scrapes against the top, reaching out to grip her wrist. “Careful, girl.”

Throwing him a smile, she swings her legs, lets her shoulders take her weight and then throws herself outwards like she’s jumping from a swing. The wind carries her and she ends up on her belly, her ribs hitting the back pack. It rolls a little under her and she skitters across the grass before she flops on her back breathlessly.

Laughing as the adrenaline floods through her, she pumps her fists into the air. “Woo hoo!”

From the fence, she can hear Daryl’s snort. “Get your ass up an’ grab this.”

She rolls her eyes as she stands, reaching her arms out and flinching as he throws the bow. Managing to catch it knocks the breath out of her but she does manage it so she quickly sets it down once she’s got it. Turning back to the fence, she glances up at Daryl as he gets in to the position she did to begin the process down.

“Don’t break anythin’,” she teases.

“Stand there an’ look pretty,” he teases back with a little curl of his mouth.

“Ooh, you think I’m pretty?” She banters back. “Careful, I’m blushin’.”

Snorting, he lightly swings his legs and prepares to jump. “Three.”

Beth solidifies her body in case he knocks into her.

“Two!” He shouts as he drops.

“Hey, you’re meant to go to one!” She shouts back in surprised outrage.

Landing solidly on his feet, he bowls over onto his knees. “Damn.”

“You okay?” Beth frets as she takes his hand, helping him get to his feet.

He pushes up, taking the hand she offers with a roll of his shoulders. “Yeah, ju’s kinda jolted me.” Glancing around the garden, he nudges her with an almost giddy excitement. “Let’s go check this out.”

* * *

By the time the sun goes down, they’ve done a full circuit around the five bed, four bath home they’ve stumbled upon. There’s a security system long lost with electricity but firm, iron fences ringing the property. The previous owners they found in the guest bathroom with their brains splattered across the wall, so they closed the door on them and didn’t go back. With the house checked out and walker clear, they return to the space in between the Koi pond and pool. Here there’s a once cute rattan table and chairs set but it’s long been destroyed by bad weather and who knows what else. Blood and gore, animal droppings, stray leaves.

Because of this they just loiter around the open floor space by the pile of kindling Daryl is trying to turn into a fire. She’s desperate for a wash so she doesn’t join him on the floor as she debates what to do. Admittedly, she would prefer the bathrooms in the house but with no running water that’s out immediately. Beth’s usually more modest when it comes to washing around Daryl but when they’ve touched each other in the way they have, it seems a little silly to be so shy about her skin. With that in mind and decision made, she strips right down to her panties and dives in to the pool.

The cover was over it earlier before they took it off, keeping all the gunk and dirt out so the water is brilliantly clean through admittedly freezing. It’s so refreshing and cleansing however that she’s laughing when she returns to the surface. Daryl smiles at her, his eyes studiously watching her face and not the hard tips of her nipples peaking from the surface. The pool is luxurious and deep, enough to cover up to half of her breasts. From here she can even see the Koi idly swimming around their pond. It’s a shame to eat them but they’re starving and never found anything on their hunt today. Daryl therefore takes no time at all grabbing one from the pond with little resistance.

The fish don’t seem to remember how to be scared of human hands in their waters so the poor thing doesn’t see it coming. While Beth cleans up in the pool, Daryl kills, guts and cleans it. She offers to help him with the fire but he tells her to stay put and soon he’s got a fire roaring and chunks of Koi cooking over it. She cringes as she glances back at the rest of the swimming Koi, in half a mind to apologise to the cooking one’s fellow cousins. It’s quiet and dark, the moon shining a waxy white but she doesn’t want to get out, not quite cold but definitely cool. She eats her portion of the Koi at the lip of the pool, covering her breasts with the rocky edge.

They share silence and food, smiles and then she slips back into the deep end, so invigorated by the fresh water. “You gonna come wash up?” Beth asks as she bobs back up, slicking her wet hair back.

Daryl sucks on his thumb as he looks over at her, looking mysteriously full of shadows from beside the flickering fire. “You gettin’ out?”

Cocking her head, she raises her eyebrow. “Do I have to? There’s 'nough room for both of us.”

It may be a twist of flame but she swears she sees him blush. “Y’sure?”

Her playful smile slips a little as his eyes pin to hers with a flare of intensity. “Yeah. S’nice.”

Snorting, he kicks off his boots and then stands to pop his jean button. Beth turns away, feeling like she doesn’t have the right to watch him undress. Dancing her fingers through the water, she waits until she hears him wade in and she can feel his presence at her back.

Turning her head over her shoulder, she smiles shyly. “Cold?”

“Mmm,” he mumbles. “You?”

“A little,” she answers, feeling slightly awkward.

It’s one thing to strip naked in the heat of the moment when she was so desperate to get her hands on him. It’s a whole other to just be gazing at each other. Admittedly, she still has her panties on, thin as they are and he still has his boxers, worn as they are too.

She’s a little nervous to do it, but eventually she does turn completely around, timidly wrapping her arms around his neck. “This okay? I don’t really know...” she laughs nervously. “S’stupid, ‘causa... y’know. The other night. S'stupid but I don't know what... I can do.”

Daryl blows out a breath when she finally spits her words out, his fingers lifting to push a wet lock of hair out of her eye. “F'I don't wanna do sumen, I’ll tell ya. ‘Cause I’d want you to tell me.” 

“I would!” Beth answers quickly. “I mean, I will.”

Nodding, he strokes his thumb down her cheek. “Then we can do anythin'.”

Flushing, she evaluates and marvels at each image that comes to mind. Fucking him again. Him fucking her. Getting on her knees for him and more simple things. Kissing for hours, lying and cuddling for even longer. Sleeping wrapped around each other, waking to his morning breath. Without responding, she stretches up on her toes, her nipples peeking out of the water as she does so. Her lips find his easily, gliding together warm and wet. He moans softly, his hand taking up residence in her hair and wrapping in the wet strands gently. She presses into him hungrily, her fingers eager at his throat, stroking and touching.

They stumble in the water, nearly falling over their own feet several times. Laughing together, he presses her back against the pool edge, Daryl's fingers digging into Beth's naked hips. It’s shallower here and her breasts are completely exposed when he pulls away to look. Another burning flush pierces her, blazing a trail through her blood stream as his eyes devour her hard nipples. He bends to take one aggressively, biting down hard enough to send a shock down her spine. Crying out, she grips his hair in surprise, gasping into the night air as his mouth trails down her stomach.

Beth blinks in a daze, watching his dark head trail lower until he meets water. His hands on her hips tighten and suddenly she’s in open air, naked flesh meeting cold winds and rocking her. He sets her on the side like a doll and she gasps when he nuzzles between her spread thighs.

“Daryl...” Her legs twitch as if they mean to close, feeling vulnerable but fighting to stay open because his mouth hovering about her cunt is a vision she can’t deny herself.

“Can I...” He trails off, now unsure of himself.

She hates that she made him feel like that and she lets the little resistance she had melt out of her. He continues to gaze at her and she nods, giving him her breathless all clear, mouth parted in wonder. When his lips press to her inner thighs, dancing kisses against her skin, she tips her head back with a sigh. It feels amazing, that excited tug in her pussy and belly. The arousal she feels with Daryl is something she’s never experience before. She's been excited before but not to this level, not with this much eagerness and it’s as frightening as it is amazing.  Beard scratching at her skin, she shivers when he reaches up to pull on the edge of her panties.

Helping him, she lifts her hips and lets him roll them down her thighs. When they’re off, he discards them on the side and then eagerly returns his mouth between her legs, finally pressing it against her wet lower lips, mouthing at them and suckling softly. The moon means she can see everything but she still brazenly lifts her leg and plants her foot on the rim to get a better view. The position spreads her open further and she has the most stunning view of Daryl’s tongue parting her pussy lips. She bites on her lip, trapping a moan but not the trembles in her thighs. A smile forms on his mouth, the shape of it pressing into her clit and she just about dies, heat soaring deep inside.

“Oh _God_ ,” she groans, her lip freeing from her teeth with a pop, hand reaching to cup her breast. “So good.”

He groans into her skin, his hands reaching to hold her inner thighs apart. Beth desperately wants to churn her hips and fuck his face but she’s too lost in the slow glide of his tongue against her clit. He twirls and dances with it, drawing her clit further from its hood and into the warmth of his open mouth. Drowning in a sea of pleasure, her whimpers and moans don’t stop, continue on long and high. In that time his tongue and mouth makes out with her pussy, giving it the kind of treatment she never thought existed. Her body is strained towards his lips, tight and tense. She can already tell she’s going to be exhausted when the orgasm building wipes her out.

The force of it is gathering between her legs, fanning to put pressure on her hips and ribs. The pressure rides her wind pipe, squeezing her moans out into mangled, choked things. Her hand finds it way in his hair, pressing his mouth deeper and harder, smothering him with greedy urgency. His rumbling moans are hot and deep against her cunt, his hands squeezing her thighs. The ache is deep in her bones but she loves every imprint of his fingertips now and she will tomorrow when they bruise. The orgasm swirls higher and higher, pulling her belly tight, her breath even more so. She wants to tell him she’s about to cum but she can’t find her voice, can't find her sanity.

Then it’s there, stealing the fluids from her body and the sound from her mouth, her head thrown back and spine arched. The waves of ecstasy rain down over her head, sweeping her away and when she drifts up on shore, she’s cut loose. Daryl catches her in a hug, standing straight as he holds her, cock hard against her thigh.

“Lemme,” she mumbles tiredly as she reaches blindly for him.

Hissing as she swipes her thumb over his cock head, he yanks himself out of her grip and pulls his head back. “Beth you’re sleepin’. Practically drunk. I don’t do that shit. C’mon, le's go in.”

Tired as she is, he has to help her inside, gathering their clothes and using the towels they brought down earlier to cover up. Daryl locks up behind them and she stumbles up the stairs with his hand guiding her. They pick a room and she collapses into the bed, watching bleary eyed as Daryl strips his wet boxers. Then he lifts his side of the moth eaten, musty covers and hesitates.

Taking his hand, she tugs him in encouragement. “C’men cuddle.” Grunting, he slides in and curls around her, her breath hot and shallow. “You've killed me,” she mutters. “Sorry I didn’t get you off. Feel selfis’.”

He chortles before he presses a kiss to her forehead. “Ain't like that, I ain’t expectin' nothin’.”

Managing to mumble, “In... in the mornin' I’m gonna...” Her eyes slip closed and she’s asleep.


	7. Smoke

Smoke.

It drifts in thin tendrils through her nostrils, ticking at the hairs in her nose so it instinctively wrinkles to try and remove it. The smell leaves an imprint behind, distorting her dreams. When she wakes from the half conscious dream she was in, Daryl's sat back against the headboard, lit cigarette held loosely between his fingers. The room is dark but for the cherry glowing on the end and the moon. Its mother of pearl sheen paints the walls a ghostly white. Hanging swollen and waxy in the night sky, it has Daryl's attention, his gaze fixed there. Beth watches him for a moment, enjoying seeing him without him seeing her.

Smoke drifts up into the air and curls away into nothingness. He takes another drag, not noticing her awoken state as he rests his wrist on his propped knee. His other hand rubs at his beard and she wonders what he’s thinking about, what’s going on inside his head. Does he regret what they did? What they’ve done? What they’re doing? Does he want to stop? She doesn't think he does but they really don’t talk enough about it for her to know. They really don’t talk much at all but for their silent communication and exchanged glances. Taking the cigarette back to his lips, Daryl drags on the filter and then exhales the smoke from his lungs.

“Can I have some?” She asks quietly.

He doesn’t startle and it makes her flush, thinking he knew she was awake all along because he _sees_ her. Through all the smoke screens and bullshit he sees her insides, in a way another human being never has before. Sees past the smiles, sees past the facade and instead finds the pain. Pain he shares, pain he understands. Turning his head to her, he offers the cigarette without comment. Beth lies her head back as she takes a drag, the blanket shifting down to expose her breasts. He glances there and she lets him, nipples hardening as she basks in his marvelled expression. The moon and the cigarette is their only light as her lips pull on the filter again.

As he hunkers down next to her, Beth glances at his chest and then reaches out to touch it, dancing her fingers silently over his pecs. The smoke drifts up between them, masking them from the word in wisps of white. The cigarette finished, she leaves her hand on his chest as she reaches over to crush it on the bedside table, burning the wood. The nub falls to the surface and she returns to lie at his side, placing her free hand next to her occupied one. Her hands explore his skin, drifting lazy fingers over his shoulders and biceps, up his neck and into the back of his hair. Throughout it all he purrs like a cat, the sound vibrating through his chest and into her, warming her.

Beth stretches her neck up to take his lips, her eyes fluttering closed as they meet in the middle. Daryl’s fingers spear into her hair, taking a fistful as he forces her mouth open with his tongue. They both groan when his wet heat and flavour meets hers, their tongues dancing and playing together, creating a mess of saliva than neither of them care about. He tastes like the cigarette they shared and she finds herself liking it. His other hand pushes under her body and then reaches down to grip her waist from behind, the tips of his fingers brushing the knob of her spine.

Pressing closer to him, she lets out a soft sound of contentment as their nipples brush together, sending pleasing tingles through her chest. Their kiss gets a little more aggressive, Daryl’s hand on her trying to pull her up. Rolling with him, she climbs over his body so that she’s straddling him, neck lowered to keep their lips connected. With a gasp of surprise, she rolls her hips and remembers all at once that they went to bed naked. His bare cock is hard and hot against her pussy lips and she drowns in his groan as her slit rides his shaft.

Breaking away for air, both of Daryl’s hands fall to her waist, slipping out of her hair so that he can move her against him. Moaning softly, Beth reaches up to lightly massage her breasts, marvelling in the wonder dancing across his face. Growling when they connect eyes, Daryl bucks her off and Beth lets him, falling beside him on the mattress. Tendrils of smoke still hang in the air as his hands take a hold of her thighs and tug at them. She finds herself on her stomach, excitement pounding through her at his intentions.

A desperate, hot heat is flowing through her pussy, swelling her tender lips and hooded clit. With both her legs pressed together and raised to her knees, Daryl’s own bent legs bracket hers, pressing together with sweat. His cock is thick and long against her soaked slit, gliding in the mess there. Their combined breathing is loud and muggy in the air, dampening her skull and the roots of her hair. Lips parted in anticipation, she grabs a pillow and curls her chest into it, Daryl’s hand gripping her hip and his other nudging at her cunt. Beth whimpers under her breath as his knuckles tease at her clit, soft and slow, exploring.

Shaking her head so that her hair will flip to the side, she tries to catch her breath as his thick fingers begin to push into her cunt. Groaning deeply, she squeezes her eyes closed and open as he reaches the first knuckles, stretching his digits so that her walls expand with him. The ache is deep and delicious, leaving her legs trembling as she bites on her lower lip. Daryl’s excited breathing makes her spine prickle as he pushes to the second knuckle, stretching her further. Without even a moment to react, he _twists_ them deep inside her and Beth goes cross eyed as she cries out, her nails digging into the pillow squashed against her chest.

“Fuck _me_ ,” he moans as he does it again, forcing another choked sound out of her.

Pressing deep once more and punching her moan out, Daryl then retracts his two fingers and wipes them against her slit, teasing at her clit for a breath taking moment. Grunting, he grips her arms and forces them palm down so that she’s on her hands and knees. The room is so damp she can barely find breath, lost in her palpable excitement.

“Y’ready?” He rumbles as he teases down from her clit to her slit with his cock head.

Beth tries to choke out words but she can’t even remember how to articulate herself, so she pushes her hips back instead and hopes he understands. He does because he presses the tip between her tight legs, both of his hands pressing down on her spine to help. She grunts under his pressure, her arms shaking as she lets out a deep groan.

“Jesus, we’re nearly there,” he mummers dazedly as he continues to push, his cock finally popping into her cunt.

“God, _Daryl_!”

Another hard thrust and she flowers around his thick girth, swallowing him to the hilt. They cry out simultaneously, the stretch bordering the line of pain so good it’s pure pleasure. Drawing back with a shaky breath and sweaty palms on her skin, Daryl is slow and smooth, taking his time to let her heart sky rocket before he slams back in. A shriek gets mangled in her throat and when it finally becomes sound she doesn’t quite know what it is but Daryl moans and fucks her again. His hips feel stuttered and agitated, like he hasn’t got the angle he wants and he pauses a moment, panting behind her. Beth looks back at him, sweat gliding down her temples as she waits.

After an intense moment of eye contact, he reaches his left hand for her left arm and places it on her ass cheek. Gripping it for him, she finds his cock doesn’t feel so tight, sitting more comfortably inside her and she bites her lip on a whimper. He’s still not quite happy though and she makes a noise of surprise as he grips her forearm, pulling her left shoulder back. Hissing, Beth adjusts to the angle, still squeezing her lower cheek as she glances back at him. Her whole left side twists into his body with the pull on her arm. Raising his left leg, he plants his foot on the mattress and keeps his right leg on its knee.  Then experimentally thrusts. Her mouth pops open at the unreal glide he’s found, the angle just right for his cock head to ride the ridges on the front wall of her pussy.

“ _Ohmygod_ ,” she spits out all at once. “Oh my _fuckin_ ’ God!”

The pressure against her clit from the inside is out of this world, stretching the thin skin so tight it’s like an orgasm is already pounding in her nerve endings. She’s at a complete loss for coherent words, wanting to tell Daryl how right that is but she doesn’t get a chance. Their eyes connect and he bares his teeth as he fucks into her again, deeper. It’s a concentrated effort to not collapse on the mattress under his weight but his arm gripping hers, fingers curled around her elbow helps her. To ensure she keeps her balance under his powerful fucking, she wraps her own hand around his forearm, leaving her ass cheek but her body twisted back so that she can keep his eye contact.

It’s unbearably intimate watching him as he fucks her, having him watching her right back as he uses all his power to pound the life out of her. Sound is just pouring out of her mouth, endless moaning and keens when he hits just the right spot. The heat in her body is like hell itself, scorching her insides raw. Blood as hot as fire gurgles through her veins, roasting her skin. Sweat glides freely any place it can, Daryl’s balls slapping wetly against her clit in a torturing smack. Her nipples are tight and sore, aching with blood and need. The speed of his thrusts never falter, all his strength gathering in his core and hips, powered by his propped leg.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!” She chants desperately, fucking her hips back with him.

With another deep thrust and howl, he puts his leg back down but doesn’t release her arm, keeping it pulled back as he tucks her legs between his. Having her thighs pressed together leaves her pussy tight as sin despite how wet she is and when he pushes back into her she thinks she loses her mind. So tender and sensitive, her mouth gapes open with a scream when his balls nudge her clit, sending her careening into an orgasm that nearly stops her heart.

“Agh, God, _argh_ ,” Daryl whines over her, his one hand on her hip and the other gripping her throat, pulling her head back for a deep, wet kiss.

Beth’s moans pour into his mouth and she swallows his as he fucks her faster, destroying her ability to speak ever again. In less than three brutal thrusts that leave her with black spots dancing in her vision, he yanks his cock out and then jams it into the curve of her inner thigh with a whine, letting his cum spill down the back of her sweaty skin. Collapsing down, he lets her arm go so that she can curl around her pillow, her shoulder aching as it rests. Daryl curls over her back, his big arms sliding under hers and hugging her tight. Beth doesn’t even mind his weight against her back even though the heat of him scorches her skin when she’s already sweating so profoundly.

Seemingly feeling the same, he presses a kiss to her sweat soaked hair and rolls off her. Beth turns her head to watch him and smiles when she finds him retrieving a cigarette from the pack on the bedside table. Thrumming with aftershocks, she lays her hand on his trembling belly and just enjoys watching him light the cigarette, the smoke that drifts and curls into the air.

“That was amazin’,” she mumbles sleepily.

Daryl turns a warm smile on her, one she can see well now as the sky begins to lighten outside their windows. “Yeah, ‘t was. You’re fuckin’ amazin’.”

Grinning, her eyes flutter and in another heartbeat, she’s asleep.


	8. Boots

Beth looks on at herself in the full length mirror and tilts her head in deliberation. Cowboy boots and a matching hat are all that grace her nude body. There’s also a whip curled around her fist, turning her knuckles white. She found it amongst the musty clothes in the one of the closets and couldn’t resist at least trying the get up on. Beads of arousal already sparkle like diamonds in the curls decorating her pubic bone and the last thing she wears is a smile full of sin. She’s never done anything even remotely like this before and the nerves pluck at her veins as she imagines approaching Daryl in this manner.

He’s down the hall taking a leak so she’s free for the moment to gaze at herself and debate if this is something she really has the balls to wear in front of him. Admittedly this thing they’ve cultivated is still very new but the angle he took her at last night… it left her feeling like there's more to explore and find together. Dress up could be one of them but is this the right time? On one hand she thinks it’s a bad idea to do this; to introduce something kinky this early in when they know so little about each others likes and dislikes in the bedroom. On the other hand she can’t help thinking that this could be their only chance to do something like this.

They’ve found this place to bed down for a while but how long is that going to last? Things like this never usually do. Safe, happy places always go under in the end and it’s not like out on the road she’s going to be striding around naked. The thought seems to clinch her decision and she nods firmly at herself in the mirror. Now that she knows she’s going through with it the excitement mixes with the nerves until she’s a giddy mess. She’s praying this doesn’t blow up in her face as she perches on the bed they slept in last night, the smell of them all around her. There’s a delicious ache between her thighs she’s never had, good sex something she’s not come by before.

The door to the bedroom is open a crack so she can hear when Daryl’s bare feet touch the floor. The creak of the floorboards makes her stomach lurch and for a wild moment she imagines shooting up and taking everything off before he can see. Alone this felt like a naughty, devious little game of dress up but with him fast approaching she feels like a silly little girl trying to be something she’s not. Her voice gets tangled in her throat and she freezes up when he arrives in the doorway.

His eyes pin to her with a comical wideness that manages to make her smile. “Hey,” she offers nervously. “Look what I found.”

Daryl’s eyes trail from the hat perched on her head, down the spill of her messy hair and to her breasts. It’s an eager kind of look in his eye like he’s devouring every patch of skin he finds but before he can even reach the boots on her feet, his eyes land on the whip coiled around her hand and he tenses.

Beth tenses with him and watches breathlessly as he shakes his head. “S’... s’erm,” he coughs nervously, his eyes still pinned to the whip. “S’a good get up but not tha’.”

She glances at the rubber wrapped around her knuckles and then back at him, shame flooding her at his bunched up shoulders. The scars. Of course. She uncoils it slowly and lays it to the side with a flush staining her cheeks. How could she be so stupid? She’s at a loss for words, embarrassment clawing at her throat.

Finally, she manages to squeak out, “Daryl, I didn’t even _think_ , m’sorry.”

Daryl rolls his shoulder, no longer looking at her nude body and it makes her grab a stray blanket and pull it over herself, taking off the hat and kicking off the boots quickly too. He frowns at her and steps inside the room, his hands taking a hold of her face in a move she doesn’t feel like he would have been brave enough to do even last night. The intense sex they had in those early hours seemed to reshape them and when he’s taken her so intimately, why should they be scared of exploring this?

“M’sorry, don’t cover up,” he whispers.

Beth’s neck is titled back so her jaw fits in his hands and she wraps her arms around his waist too, the blanket shifting down her body once more. “That was stupid of me, I should’a never… I didn’t wanna whip you or nothin’, I-I… don’t even know what I was thinkin’, Daryl, please don’t thin-”

“ _Stop_ ,” he mutters, quiet and firm, his thumbs stroking her cheekbones. “I...” he stutters and growls at himself, glancing away before glancing back to her. “What’d you wanna do with it? If I let you, what’d you do?”

The intensity of his eye contact sends ripples of awareness over her skin and as much as she wants to she can’t look away. “I didn’t think that far ahead, I jus’ kinda picked it up for the whole effect, y’know? But I guess I’d…” she blushes and she still can’t look away so she forces the rest of it out. “I guess I would’a maybe tied your hands up an’ embraced the cow girl theme.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth and it eases some of the tension in her chest. “How you gonna do that?”

His smile forces a teasing smile of her own as she tilts her chin down and kisses his bare stomach. When she glances back up at him, his chest is rising a little faster. “I mean... I never done reverse cowgirl before... maybe that, with you tied up? Thought it’d be fun.”

The rough pads of his fingertips brush over her hair as she presses some more kisses to his stomach, lightly nipping at his skin. “Can I…” he chokes a little and she glances up with a frown. It seems it was only a reaction to her lips skimming his waist line though, not because he’s upset. “M’I gonna get a safe word?”

Beth pulls her head back so she can look at him properly. “Daryl, I won't force you to do somethin’ that makes you uncomfortable, so don’t do that to yourself. I don’t want that. S’fun when we’re enjoyin’ it, both of us.” 

Both his voice and eyes are hesitant when he whispers, “I wanna try, I do, an’… I only wanna try with you.”

Tears prick at her eyes unbidden and she has to press her face into his stomach to hide them. It’s such a monumental thing to ask of her and yet she’s so honoured that he trusts her enough to ask when he’s so clearly scared. She hasn’t got a clue how to do this right though and that’s overwhelming. This started as a bit of fun that was a little nerve wracking because it was new but now it’s something so much bigger. A test of trust and patience, a new exploration for Daryl that she’s not sure he’s entirely comfortable with. Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she pulls her face away and looks up at him again.

“Promise me this ain’t jus’ for me. I don’t want that Daryl, I don’t want you to be scared or nervous because of me, ever.”

He stares down at her and that tiny smile comes back, lifting the corner of his mouth. “You think I’m nice ‘nough for that? I ain’t doin’ shit I don’t wanna do.”

Beth laughs and takes his hand cupping her face, pressing a kiss to his palm before she pulls away. “Tell me your safe word.”

His hands drift over her bare shoulders and she almost misses what he says when they fall hesitantly to her breasts, gently cupping them in his large hands. “Red.”

“Red?” She repeats as she tries to focus.

Daryl nods, bending to press a kiss to her forehead and to confirm, “red.”

When he straightens again she nods too and reaches for the whip again, looking up at him with uncertainty. “Can I?”

A tremble worms through his chest and she watches as it tightens his nipples but in the end he nods. Its nerve wracking doing something that’s so obviously bothering him but he wants to try and he has his safe word, so she has to trust he’ll stop her if it’s too much. Twining the whip around his proffered wrists, she smiles at him confidently. A wobbly smile decorates his mouth and when she stands she tries to hold on to that confidence, to give him a safe place to try these things that scare him. He watches her with a mix of fear and fascination as she ties the knot in the whip.

Continuing that watchfulness when his hands are bound before him too. Beth glides her hands over his chest, watching him closely as her fingertips brush his nipples. Daryl sucks in a breath and she gives him another smile, this one easier than the last as she begins to lower to her knees, her hands still trailing down his chest. It rises faster the lower she goes and by the time she’s reached her knees, the blanket discarded, he’s panting shallowly under his breath. The look she flicks up to him is one she hopes he finds seductive, her hands working on his loose jeans until they unclasp and bag around his hips.

While the front gapes open she lays her palms to his hips and lets her lips ghost across his lower stomach. It shudders and flinches wherever her lips lay and his bound hands settle gently on top of her head. If he was more confident she might reprimand him for touching her when she’s tied him up but that’s a fantasy she’s never really tried and he’s not, so she doesn’t. This is as new to her as it is to him but admittedly this is also scary for him in a way it isn’t for her. She has to take the time to make sure he’s really comfortable, that he really wants to explore something like this.

Laying another kiss to his stomach, she lets her hands drift down to his loose jeans and tug so that gravity takes them to his knees. He hisses and she glances up at him again, her cheeks flushing with the intense eye contact but she’s unable to look away. She wants to see his reaction to what she’s doing to him, to put a facial expression with his excited panting. Running her tongue over the roof of her mouth, she takes his cock in hand and presses it flat against his stomach, his heat burning her palm. Daryl growls and lets his eyes fall shut but they spring open when she licks a line from his balls and up the underside of his shaft.

His mouth pops open and there’s no sounds but all his words are in his eyes. Excitement, lust, disbelief and still that edge of fear. It feels unfair that he has such reservations and she doesn’t, that she has something over on him because she’s not afraid to explore with him. He’s out of his comfort zone and Beth feels it’s only fair that she is too so she does something that terrifies her. Terrifies her because she’s always wanted to do it but she’s never been brave enough, never found someone she trusted enough to try. She has now and so she reverses her tongue back down his shaft, running her teeth along the throbbing vein there and takes one of his balls in her mouth.

A string of curses burst from his lips and he throws his head back with a shout. Beth lathers it with her tongue before she releases it to find the other one, a pleased humming vibrating in her throat. Daryl groans again and she’s emboldened by his reaction so she releases that ball too and goes back for his leaking head, mouthing at the tip before she swallows it. He curses and thrusts, startling her enough that his cock manages to sink to the back of her throat.

She chokes and he pulls out quickly, his voice panicked when he mutters, “fuck, sorry.”

She shakes her head and goes back to his hard cock, swallowing him down her throat. Their eyes catch once more and he growls, his hands on her head flexing for a purchase in her hair but too deftly bound together to do so. After the second time of taking him all the way down her throat, she takes pity on his aching whimpers and begins to withdraw off his cock, sucking gently as it slides out of her mouth. When she manages to stand back to her full height, she finds his pupils yawning at her soaked chin and she blushes, taking his wrists and turning him before she pushes him down on the bed.  Dropping down more gracefully than she would have thought, Daryl continues to stare up at her like he’s waiting for his next command. The crimson blush staining his cheeks and chest sinfully erotic.

Snatching up the cowboy hat, Beth puts it back on her head and tosses him a smirk over her shoulder. “Y’ready?”

The sweaty hair in his eyes masks them from her but his excited breathing and raging cock is something she can see quite well. Even without him speaking she knows he is, that fear lost from his gaze and replaced by hunger. Almost challenging her with his smirk, he lies back on the mattress, lifting his arms above his head and flexing his biceps. Beth is near drooling at the sight and she’s eager as she backs up to straddle him, almost violent when she reaches back to fist his shaft, holding him still so she can sit down on his cock. He groans deeply as each inch disappears inside her cunt, his hips trembling beneath her thighs every time she gasps out.

Lifting her feet up to plant them on the mattress, she grips his knees and gives him a show. Her ass settles into his lap perfectly and they share a mutual gasp when she tilts forward a little, giving him an extended view of his cock disappearing between her legs. It’s a little strange to not be able to see him, turned away as she is but it’s also empowering that she can do what she wants without the knowledge of his eyes on her face. She can allow her mouth to slacken, her teeth to grind and her eyes to cross as she bounces up and down on his dick like her life depends on it, the wet squelch of their fucking echoing around the room.

“Holy fuck, Beth, _shit_ ,” Daryl shouts behind her and his bound hands land clumsily against her spine, pushing on it. “I need to see you. C’mon, I need t’see.”

Trembling, she lifts herself completely off his cock and turns on shaky legs to mount him again. Facing him is as soul destroying as she thought it would be. Seeing his sweaty face, his flushed cheeks and his hair sticking to his forehead. Adding in his bound hands and bunching biceps above his rolling head steals the air from her lungs. Beth’s pussy walls grip and tug at his cock, pulling deeper and faster as she bounces on him, her whole world swallowed by the blinding pleasure burning down her spine. Her face is hot and sweat glides freely in every place it can but she doesn’t stop. Her hands on his chest hang on for dear life, his feet planting themselves onto the mattress so he can pound up into her.

“Shit, shit,” she cries desperately, her orgasm curling around her ribs and squeezing the breath from her lungs.

“ _Unh_ , mother _fuck_. Shit, m’gonna cum, Beth. Jesus. God.”

Daryl’s words wash through her like hot bullets, attacking all her senses and sending floods of wetness gushing from her cunt. He cries out in something akin to a scream, his neck straining a violent crimson as his spine arches. Where his hands are tied his biceps bunch and she reaches towards them to dig her nails in, fucking her hips back with delirium. The high pitched moans she lets escape are nearly embarrassing in their rawness and she tries to quiet down, tries to bite her lip but she just can't. A sound begins to wind out of Daryl's mouth but then it cuts off abruptly, his cock sliding out as her hips lift and it gets caught between her sopping slit and his stomach as they come back down.

Hot bursts of cum spray upwards, soaking her lower belly where it’s pressed to his and creating a sticky mess as they slide together. Beth gasps desperately as she grinds her hips and lets her slit ride up and down his twitching cock, so close to cumming she could scream with it.

“Red!” Daryl groans hoarsely, the sweat on his brow pouring down his flushed face. “ _Red, red, red_ , Beth! Please, _fuck_!”

Hastening to tear the whip from his wrists, her body is still shaking as she wrenches upwards and pulls them apart to show him he’s free. His staggering breath punches into her belly, vibrating through her from head to toe as he wraps his arms around her tight and squeezes her to him, knocking the hat from her head. Where her face is smothered in his shoulder she takes deep, calming breaths, shaking off her near orgasm.

“Shh,” she whispers as his breath hitches, choking her throat closed. “S’okay. I got you.”

“Beth,” he whispers mournfully into her shoulder, his nails digging into her waist where he’s gripping her. “Jesus, Beth. M’sorry. Didn’t even let you cum.”

“S'not ‘bout that,” she answers softly. “An’ please don't be sorry,” she mumbles even softer, her fingers massaging his damp scalp. “Don’t ever be sorry. What you jus’ did was amazin’. You let go. You gave me control.”

Another rattling breath tears through him, rising up his throat like a cry and she squeezes him tighter. “Actin’ like a fuckin’ girl,” he growls lowly, the crook of her neck soaked with sweat and tears.

“You sound like someone who jus’ embraced his fears, Daryl. Don’t do that.” She pulls away to look at him, gripping his face tight. “Don’t discredit yourself.”

His shaking hand curves over her cheekbone, his sweaty hair masking his eyes and he looks like he wants to say something but he doesn’t. They just look at each other for a really long time, the look so deep and intimate it’s the most naked she’s ever felt with him. In the end he simply kisses her and it’s full of words he can’t say. The passion and the urgency startle her only momentarily as she tries to decipher his silence.

Then he pulls away and against her mouth whispers, “I’d only do it for you. Only you.” The silence unfolds like a flower and nestled there in his words she finds the thing he’s not saying.

_Only you._

_Oh_.

Even as understanding passes through her, warming her deep in her chest, Daryl gently pushes her on her back. She’s about to protest, especially when he lowers himself down the mattress. She’s terrified he has the misguided intentions of making her cum but he doesn’t do anything of the sort but rather simply lays his head on her belly even though it’s sticky. Beth doesn’t comment on it. If it doesn’t bother him and it certainly doesn’t bother her, then what’s the point? Instead she lets him get comfortable, pillowing his head just below her belly button and curling his hands around her hips. She can see his feet hanging off the bed because he’s so tall but she smiles all the same.

Gripping a tangled blanket in the corner of the bed, she shakes it out as best as she can and throws it over Daryl’s hips. He reaches down blindly to smooth it over his back and her lower half before he gets comfortable again and settles in. Her fingers twine in his hair and she breathes deep, her gaze landing on the cowboy boots on the floor.

“Think I’m gonna keep those boots, need a new pair anyhow.”

Daryl snorts in something close to a laugh, his voice drowsy in a way it never is after sex like he’s truly exhausted. “Gonna need ‘em. Gotta go out tomorrow.”

She hums her answer because she’s not sure he has the capacity for much conversation going by his slurred words. It was the right call because within minutes, he’s out like a light.


	9. Bite

Beth was waiting for so long.

Waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for her happy ending to come crashing down around her ears. But it just didn’t. The fun times kept coming, the smiles and the laughs. The happiness; the mind blowing sex. She kept waiting for it to vanish in a puff of smoke; for someone to finally punch her ticket but it never came.

Until it did.

It was just a run. Just one run out of the millions they’ve done since the world ended. Just one run that changed it all. They were trapped in a pharmacy, trying to loot the remaining drugs in the back when part of the ceiling caved in and a shit load of walkers fell down amongst the rubble and dust. She knew Daryl got hurt, she heard him shout out but there was no time to check so they ran. Ran and ran all the way back until they were clear. When he wrapped his wrist up and told her it was sliced by the smashed window they flung themselves out of she believed him.

Because she was covered in little cuts too, glass shards glittering in her palms and fingertips until she picked them all out. She believed him until they got home and he unwound the bandage. Then the world stopped turning and here they are, living a nightmare. The bite is torn and bloody, strips of skin hanging grotesquely from the bone. Beth wants to scream, feels like she should be screaming but if she screams it’s real. If she screams then she’s allowing the knowledge inside her, allowing it to take root and become reality.

The tears spill down her cheeks even when she doesn’t scream and her mouth moves even when she doesn’t want it to. “Please, Daryl. Please tell me you _didn't_ keep this from me! After e-" her voice breaks and she has to struggle through the rest of it. “ _Everythin_ ’ we been through, all we lost, tell me you didn’t give yourself a death sentence! That you didn’t hide this on purpose!”

His face is anguished and for the first time ever he whispers, “I love you.”

A sharp hiss of air rattles between her teeth and the tears are coming thick and fast, the world in slow motion but her heart is pounding. “Don’t you say that! You don’t get to say that! Not now!” She screams at him, her face a mess of tears and snot, her heart shattering in her chest. “Don’t you dare!”

“Beth,” he whispers softly and she hates how sick he sounds already, like she can hear it now she knows.

So close to death and she’s just letting it happen. She shrieks at him and whirls away, her world crumbling to ruins and making her sick with the thought. This can't happen, it just _can't_.

“C'mere,” he whispers behind her, wrapping his arms around her body.

When she looks down and sees the bandages wound around his wrist it sparks a new fury in her gut. All she has is anger right now, it's all she can focus on because accepting what’s about to happen makes her want to claw her own face off and let her blood spill. The agony beating at her heart is too much to bear and she spins back around, pounding her fists against his chest.

“It ain’t fair! None of this is fair! An’ it’s your stupid fuckin’ fault! You should’a told me! I would'a cut it off myself! You should have _told_ me!” Her last couple of words are a hollow, broken sound and she collapses to the floor in front of him, holding his thighs as she sobs her anguish.

“Beth,” he mumbles again as he slowly lowers himself to the floor with her. “You think I'd survive with one arm? You think I could hunt or use t’bow or keep you safe with _one_ arm?”

She almost doesn’t want to look at him because she’s so angry at him but the part of her that doesn’t want to admit what’s happening knows she’s on a timer. Knows how little time she truly has left with him walking and talking and _breathing_.

So she does look up at him through blurry, swollen eyes and with a trembling lip whispers, “what ‘bout now? How’m I gonna be safe with you _dead_?”

Another sob spills out of her and she can’t stop because it _hurts_ , it hurts so bad. The sobs spiral into screams, her breath heaving in something close to a panic attack and it actually feels worse when Daryl wraps his arms around her and rocks them together, curled up on the floor. After a while she’s out of sounds but not tears. They drip steadily down her face as she presses it into his shoulder. Beth can’t stop sniffing him, touching him, pressing her body along his and trying to pull him deeper into her skin, to absorb him so he never has to leave.

When they pull away her face feels swollen and her eyes raw. All she wants is sleep and to wake up tomorrow finding this was all a bad dream. Daryl lifts his hand, presses it to her cheek, sweeping his thumb over her tears and she knows that can’t happen. Not when that bite is hidden under the bloody and pus soaked linen. Her chin wobbles again and his eyes burn bright with tears he’s not shedding. She hates him and she loves him all at once. She can’t believe he’s done this to her, that he’s leaving her and yet she understands too. Who is Daryl if he can’t provide? Who is he if can’t hold that bow?

She may be losing him physically but if they had taken his arm off today she would have lost him mentally, emotionally and maybe it would have come to this in the end anyway. Maybe a few months down the line he wouldn’t be able to take it anymore and they’d be sitting here, saying their goodbyes because he wanted to opt out. It doesn’t matter anyway. She doesn't get maybes, she only gets now. Beth’s lower lip still wobbles as she presses her mouth to his, kissing him and sobbing into his mouth all at once. His free hand, the one not marked with a deadly bite rises to her head and cups it, kissing her deeper, saying goodbye.

It’s stupid and it’s pathetic but she needs him right now, even on death's door, _because_ he’s on death's door and he’s not stopping her. He doesn’t stop her when she pushes his vest off, doesn’t stop her when she removes her own clothes, when she brings him down on top of her. He doesn’t make a word of complaint, not even a word of pleasure when he’s inside her because this isn’t about that. This is about being close, about taking control of what’s left, about holding on while they can.

"I love you," she sobs into his throat.

He squeezes her tighter in response. The only time he speaks is when they reach their end, when he’s tugging away from her and she holds him tight whispering _please, let me have this._

He pulls away and shakes his head, eyes wide and wet. “Naw, not without me. No, Beth. Don’t ask me that. Don’t _fuckin_ ’ ask me that.”

She tightens her legs around his waist and sobs into his shoulder. “ _Please_. I love you, please.”

The sob that releases from him is a mix of emotions that burn her brain and all her abilities to think, giving her one blissful moment of silence when he spills inside her. When they’re done they dress silently and lay back on the bed, his hand weakly brushing through her hair until he can’t even manage that anymore. They don’t speak for a really long time, his body growing weaker in her arms, separating with only enough time that she can get a damp cloth and put it to his brow. She racks her brain for things to say but what is there to say that isn’t _this_ , that isn’t the end. She can’t let go. She doesn't want to.

“Don’t lemme...” Daryl rasps suddenly, jolting her out of her mindless staring at his bandaged wrist. “ _Beth_ ,” he says with a little more conviction, almost panicked and she grabs him tight, letting him know she’s there even though her throat is so choked she can’t speak. “Don’t lem-mme wake up like... _them_ , girl. Don’t do that.” His straining head collapses when he’s done like he gave every drop of energy he has to his words.

Her eyes squeeze shut as more exhausted tears drip down her cheeks. “I won’t. I wouldn’t. Im’ma keep you here. Keep you safe.”

“Safe,” Daryl whispers so quietly it’s nearly not words at all. “Stay... safe. You an’... you a-"

Beth knows the moment that he’s gone, the moment he leaves the world. His chest was rattling for hours but the death rattle is something different in its own right, something that sweeps cold knowledge all through her bones. Even knowing deep in her gut her stomach still rolls with dread when he doesn’t rouse to his name. One look at his pale, lifeless skin sends her bolting to her feet. The bile bursts past her lips just as she hangs her head over the railing through the balcony doors, the sobs mixing with her breathless heaving and making her dizzy. Once she’s wretched it all up she slides down the railing and let’s herself collapse against the iron bars.

The world is swimming and for one crazy moment she thinks about just flinging herself over the railing above her head to end it all. How is she meant to do this without him? How can she survive all by herself? In the last six months they’ve grown closer than any living thing should have the right to. They fell in love. They laughed. They smiled and they got better. They kept getting better. They reinforced the house, stocked up well, planned escapes. Everything was working, everything was okay. How does she even _be_ when he’s not alive? For a long, long time she sits frozen against the railing, the night cold and frightening all alone.

The pain squeezing her insides so tight she can barely breath at all. She knows she has to go back. She can't let him wake up like that. She knows she can’t. Shaking, Beth rises to her feet, numbly taking the knife from her belt as she approaches the bed. On autopilot she kneels on the edge, the hand holding the knife shaking as she cries and gasps hiccuping breaths. The metal blurs in her vision, reflecting the moonlight outside and her eyes blinking rapidly as she reaches for Daryl’s still head. Taking a hold of him gently, she slightly tilts it to the side. The breath is bursting out of her as she levels the blade to the base of his skull, her throat convulsing as more bile threatens to rise up.

Screaming, she throws the knife across the room and clutches her head in her hands. “I can’t! _I can’t, I can't, I can't!_ _Please_ , I don’t want to, I don't want to!” she chokes as she rocks, her eyes not looking at him, not looking anywhere near him.

Digging her nails into her forearms she tears at her own flesh and tries to use the pain to think clearly, to distract from the pain burning her alive. If she doesn’t do this then she’ll have to leave and let him wake here as one of them. Daryl didn’t want that. He wanted her to be safe here, to have a home. He gave her a gift, a life to grow and she can’t do that out there. She has to do this, she has to be brave and she has to bury him like he deserves. She needs him close, not just another walker roaming the Earth but where he belongs. He needs peace and he won’t get it if his body rises again. On her hands and knees she crawls to the other side of the room and picks her knife up. Then on shaky legs she rises to walk and kneels beside him once more.

Gently taking his head in her hand again, she lays the point of the knife against the base of his skull and closes her eyes. “I love you, Daryl.”

Then she slides the blade home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have literally been uploading this all bloody day! But it's done and it's all yours! As you can see: not a happy ending! So if you made it here despite the warning on the first chapter, thanks so much! I was going to finish this with bittersweet but I genuinely couldn't think of an ending as I had two in mind so I'll let you decide!


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